


Hazel

by ssa_archivist



Category: Smallville
Genre: M/M, PWP, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-04-20
Updated: 2003-04-20
Packaged: 2017-11-01 08:46:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/354553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ssa_archivist/pseuds/ssa_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eyeball vignette.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hazel

## Hazel

by carlanesses

<http://www.geocities.com/carlanesses/smallville.html>

* * *

It's funny, the things that puzzle you when you're little. Your biggest hangup was eye color. Black, brown and blue were easy; you saw them all the time. You'd always liked your own precise, stony blue. Green, gray and violet were rarer and startling, but you could still identify them without trouble. However, no one had ever been able to explain hazel to your satisfaction. 

Hazel was the astonishing mottled yellow and blue of the girl in introductory Latin. More interesting the longer you stared, at least until she punched you in the nose. 

Hazel was the pale, pale dun of the older boy you smoked your first joints with, out behind the duck pond, talking about girls. 

"Make them feel safe, Lex," he'd say, trying to blow a smoke ring, and sometimes even succeeding, "make them feel safe. The shy, quiet ones? The geeks? Whipped cream bikinis got nothing on the stuff running around in their heads. You just have to get them to trust you." 

God bless the man. The last you heard, he died of heart failure in the arms of three exceptionally svelte immunologists. 

Hazel was the bright, flickering green-brown of the student who sat beside you in second-year biochemistry lab. The one who chattered, stone cold sober, about weirder things than you thought about when trying out your own custom blends. You were never able to say the word 'platypus' again without wincing. 

Clark has the most hazel eyes you've ever seen. Never quite the same color twice, shifting and shifty, they can be as flat and carefully blank as his voice or shining with an excitement rarely found in those over the age of six. You think you like his eyes best of all like this, though: wide and frantic like an animal in a trap, staring directly into your own where you're kneeling between his legs and sucking him off. His chest is heaving and his splayed fingers are leaving crackle patterns in the polished stone floor. In a minute you're going to make him come, see his beautiful eyes squeeze shut and his sweaty head tilt back as he screams, and when they open again they'll be lazy and warm, and that'll be good too. But you like best this moment when his gaze is locked on yours like you're the only thing left in his universe, when all the secrets standing between the two of you have lost their power and you can just . . . God, just love him. 

Eventually you decided that hazel was what one called any color that didn't fit anywhere else. 


End file.
